


When I Came Apart at the Seams

by Salmonellagogo



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Super Sons (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Crying, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 22:58:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14388867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmonellagogo/pseuds/Salmonellagogo
Summary: Damian is hit by a new type of Scarecrow's toxin.





	When I Came Apart at the Seams

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, Jon is seventeen, hence the underage tag.

Damian woke up as someone climbed into his bed. He heard the rustle of clothes, soft thunk of belt buckles and jeans being tossed aside, and then he was pulled by a hand on his chest, until his back was flush against a solid body.

Jon kissed the top of his spine and whispered, "Sorry."

Damian sniffled. He was a _wreck_. A drop of unwanted tears streaked to the side of his face. He refused to turn around, or to even acknowledge Jon. Shame coiled inside his stomach. Jon shouldn't have seen him like this.

"Damian." Jon's breath was warm against his skin. He tightened his hold around Damian and made a shushing noise.

"Go away," Damian said.

"No." A kiss again, gentle and lingering, on the shell of Damian's ear. "Let me stay, _please_."

***

**Earlier.**

It wasn't the first time Damian drew the short end of the stick during an Arkham's breakout. Once, he had to be laid up for six weeks because of the Joker. Injuries were mostly inevitable when they did what they did, but _this_ ? This may be the _worst_ yet.

He knew getting a faceful of Scarecrow gas would not result in anything good. But honestly, he would rather Scarecrow had stuck with making him reliving his nightmares than this. At the very least, Father had cure for that one.

He wiped his eyes. The tears wouldn't stop -- they spilled down his cheeks no matter how many times he tried to dry his eyes. The sleeve of his Robin suit was a mess of wet patches. The worst part was, _god_ , he wanted to cry. It hadn't been like that at first, but as he continued to cry, a minute that became an hour, an hour that became four and he still hadn't stopped, the heaviness in his chest grew. The misery was familiar, but he didn't have any cause for it. It was just _there_.

"I find traces of mood altering substance," Father said. "And something else."

Damian could barely see beyond the moisture in his eyes. Father was a blurry figure backlighted by the glow of monitors wall. He tinkered with his equipments, adjusted something Damian couldn't make out properly.

Damian sniffled and asked, "H-how long?"

"You are not in danger. It should wear off in a day or so," Father said. "Alfred will help you clean up. You should rest and stay hydrated."

"I a-am not disabled. I can clean myself." He didn't wait for a reply before hopping off the examination table. Damian shivered. He curled his shoulders, back bowed as he walked to the showers.

“Damian!”

And of course, he would be accosted before he could shut himself off inside the shower. And of course, it would be Jon -- who walked off of the transporter chamber and promptly stopped short upon seeing him.

“Are you okay?” Jon asked, eyes wide and, well, _surprised_. “I came as soon as I heard --”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Damian cut him off. He swiped his tears angrily. He wanted to be _alone_. He wanted this conversation to be over already. He didn't want Jon to be here.

“You’re crying,” Jon said.

“ _Yes,_ I-I am.” And Damian _hated_ the involuntary sob that chose that moment to wrack his body. “Scarecrow,” he said and walked away.

Behind him, Damian heard footsteps, but they stopped as soon as Father uttered Jon’s name. He reached the showers in peace and shed his costume, piece by piece until he was naked and quivering. He turned up the water’s heat and stood under the downpour for a long time.

***

**Now.**

“I want to be alone,” Damian said.

“Aw, come on.” Jon slid his hand up and down Damian’s front. “I can't leave you alone like this.”

Damian bit his lips, sniveling. His chest hurt. Crying was exhausting. His head spin every time he tried to sit. He felt like he didn't have anything left inside and still the tears wouldn't stop.

He shifted under Jon’s hold, turning around until he faced Jon. He didn't want to know what he looked like right now. He probably looked a mess, like he had spent all night crying.

Jon's eyes softened when he saw him. “Damian,” he said, and ran his fingers through Damian's hair, and then down, to wipe tears off Damian's cheek with his thumb.

“I can’t stop,” Damian said, and it's getting _worse._ Jon's tentative touch was drawing out even more tears. Damian's chest ache. Even as a child, he didn't remember ever crying past sheding a few silent tears behind his mother's back.

“I know,” Jon said. “Alfred told me to try and make you sleep, and drink water.”

“I can take care of myself,” Damian said. “I know how to stay hydrated.”

Jon hummed a low, and soothing sound. “What can I do make you sleep?”

“I can’t.”

“It’s okay,” Jon said and kissed Damian's eyelid.

Jon gathered him closer, let him hide his face at the crook where Jon's shoulder met his neck and Damian tried not to let his shame swallowed him whole. His fist clenched at Jon's t-shirt. Their legs tangled with each other’s, and Jon skimmed his hand on Damian’s back, up and down.

Damian lost the track of time. For a while, his world was reduced to the smell of Jon’s soap and sweat, to heat of Jon’s body, to the taste of his own tears, and to the comforting and _safe_ enclosure of Jon’s arms. He stopped sobbing, but tears continue to sting his eyes.

“Do you feel better?” Jon whispered, lips touching the crown of Damian’s head.

Damian shifted, and nodded, unable to trust himself to speak at the moment.

“That’s good,” Jon said. “Close your eyes, and try to sleep.”

Damian shut his eyes and tried to relax his muscles. A good ten minutes ticked by, but he wasn't any closer to sleep and a large portion of Jon's t-shirt was wet at this point. Though, that didn't prevent Damian from burrowing deeper against Jon, rubbing his face at Jon's shoulder.

Jon kneaded the back of Damian’s neck. “Uhm, do you trust me?”

That gave Damian a pause, he drew back a little and looked at Jon through blurry eyes. “What?” he asked.

“I want to help you sleep,” Jon said. “Is it okay?”

“What are you talking about?”

Jon bit his lip. A moment of hesitation, and then he cradled Damian’s jaw and _kissed_ him. It's slow and Damian was lost for a moment, _confused,_ but then his exhausted mind caught up. He kissed Jon back, letting Jon open his mouth with his tongue.

They kiss until Damian's lips hurt and his chest felt like ready to burst. When they parted, Jon smiled, small and tender. “Let me take care of you?” he asked.

Damian let the question hang for a few seconds. He studied Jon's face, blinked a few stray tears off his eyes. “Okay,” he said.

And then, Jon's kissing him again. “You’re so good Damian,” he said. “You’re beautiful, do you know that? You drive me crazy.”

Damian shuddered. Jon pushed him to lay on his back and he refrained to tell Jon to stop. _God_ , he wasn't beautiful, not like this. He felt gross and blotchy, and Jon didn't need to _lie_ for his sake. But, Jon didn't stop, he skimmed his hand under Damian's shirt, lifting it up and kissed his way down Damian's sensitive belly button, making Damian’s stomach flutter and sunk as he drew in a sharp breath.

“You’re always so smart, and you make me want to clobber you sometimes. But, you know, you turn me on when you talk about something I can't even begin to understand.”

Damian bit back a whimper. Jon pulled down his pajama shorts and boxer, freeing his aching cock.

“I want to kiss you every time you act bossy, like you are the smartest one in the room. I want to kiss you in front of the Titans, show them who you belong to.”

Damian couldn’t hold back his moan as Jon’s lips wrapped around the head of his cock, and finally, _finally_ that shut Jon up. Damian squeezed his eyes closed. His face was burning and Jon's mouth felt so good and wet.

Jon worked fast. They didn't do this often, and Damian always felt guilty whenever he caved in and let Jon do whatever he wanted. Jon was seventeen, and, _fuck_ , where did he learned to do _that._ Jon's using his tongue to trace the underside of Damian's dick and still managed to maintain his suction. His hand gripped the part where his lips didn’t cover.

Damian gasped and he knew he wouldn't last long, not when Jon gagged as he tried to take in Damian further. His hands holding down Damian's hips to prevent Damian from squirming. He tried to warn Jon, tangled his hand in Jon's hair and pulled, but Jon didn't notice, or didn't heed him. He continued to suck Damian off and Damian shuddered, moaning helplessly as he shoot into Jon's mouth.

Jon gagged and pulled off of Damian's cock. Some of his come leaked from the corner of Jon's lips and he continue to shoot unchecked on Jon's chin and neck. When he was finally done, Damian just laid there, heart speeding and trying to catch his breath. He registered Jon moving, opening his bedside drawers for tissues, and then, Jon was at his side, tucking Damian against his body. He could feel Jon’s erection, hard and heavy against his thigh, but Damian didn’t have an ounce of energy left, even to lift his hand.

Jon kissed his forehead tenderly. “Sleep,” Jon said.

Damian closed his eyes, and couldn’t do anything else, safe from obeying Jon. His tears had stopped spilling at some point and he let Jon’s warmth buoy him, feeling sated and safe, and finally _sleepy_.

“Thank you,” Damian said and Jon kissed his face again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Jon’s aware of Damian’s insecurity/feeling weak bc of crying/etc here, so he’s just praising Damian to make him feel better. Jon logic, idek.
> 
> [Find me on Tumblr!](http://salmonellagogo.tumblr.com)


End file.
